


Gifts

by pearl_o



Category: Smallville
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-15
Updated: 2002-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-01 08:44:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/354537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Birthdays and late night social calls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gifts

## Gifts

by Pearl-o

<http://www26.brinkster.com/pearlo/writing.html>

* * *

The couch in his loft was lumpy. Clark's weight sank him down unevenly, every movement causing the springs to poke his back in a new place, and his head sat propped up on the arm at an awkward angle that he was pretty sure should hurt, but which gave him a perfect view of the window across. 

When his father had first told him, he'd been afraid that this was one of the things that would change: that he wouldn't be able to look at the stars anymore without automatically thinking of the ship, about meteors and aliens and everything he wanted to forget. But it was okay, because even the voice in his head pretty much had to shut up when it faced the absolute vastness. 

And the size of the couch made up at least a little for the discomfort. He shifted a little to stretch out his legs even more. The plate on his stomach was just heavy enough to push down on him with pleasant pressure, and the cake there had spread its aroma all around, sweet and rich. 

He was in his fortress, cozy, and it was a nice summer night following a nice summer day. A _good_ day. A great day. As if somebody had found some list of Clark's that he didn't even know he'd made ("Things That Would Just Make My Day Really, Really Terrific, Thank You") and had worked straight from it. Missing a few things, of course, because nothing was perfect, but maybe as close as he could remember getting. 

Footsteps on the stairs, but checking on them would require movement, and wrenching himself from this position, and those were pretty much the last things he felt like doing. 

The footsteps stopped once they reached the top. 

"Clark?" 

The voice made him grin and twist his head automatically. Lex. Another item to check off the list. 

He was standing at the edge of the loft, nearly out of the light altogether, but Clark could see him easily. One of his hands was twisted in his pocket, the other curled up loosely at his side. 

"Lex. Hey." He started to pull himself together and sit up, but Lex waved at him absently. 

"Don't." 

Clark lay back and watched as Lex walked over to him and sat down on the loft floor, back against the couch, head only a couple inches away from Clark's side and hands. He exhaled and rubbed his head lightly. 

"I missed you at the party," Clark offered after a minute. He'd been checking over his shoulder the entire night, spinning around every time he heard the door open. Once it had been in the middle of one of Chloe's stories -- she'd gotten pissed and stalked off, and Clark had to follow her and apologize for five minutes before she calmed down. 

Lex shrugged. "Sorry. I came by for a while earlier, but you were busy. I didn't really feel like sitting around and making small talk with your parents and their friends." 

"I thought you were always up for showing off your charm. You know, snaring people into your web...." 

"Nope. Only when there's something in it for me." Lex tilted his head back and twisted a little, so he was half-facing Clark. "Sorry, Clark. I did mean to wish you a happy birthday." 

"You still can." 

"It's not your birthday anymore." 

"It is in Alaska." 

Lex had to pull his sleeve up to check his watch. "You're right. Only for a few more minutes, though. I guess I'd better give you this quickly." He took a small box from his pocket and lifted it above him. "Happy birthday, Clark." 

The gift wasn't wrapped very well -- too much tape, and the paper bunched up a little -- and Clark wondered if Lex had done it himself. He turned the box over in his hands, examining it, but he didn't want to open it yet. 

Instead, he asked, "Did you eat at the party?" 

Lex shook his head. "I didn't stay very long." 

"You want some cake?" Clark asked. "My mom made it. It's really good. Chocolate with peanut butter icing." 

He couldn't see Lex's face from this angle, but he'd bet money, just from the tone of his voice, that Lex's mouth was twisted into that odd quirk. "How can I refuse?" 

He handed Lex the plate that'd been lying on his stomach. His body immediately missed the warmth. Clark rubbed the spot a little, and placed the box there to fill the cool space. 

When he looked back to the floor, Lex was playing with the cake, poking it with his fork like it was some kind of alien artifact or scientific experiment. And _that_ was definitely _not_ something he should be thinking about. His mind scurried away from those images as quickly as possible, and he realized abruptly that he'd just handed Lex his half-eaten leftovers. 

"Sorry, Lex -- I can go get you a new piece and silverware from the kitchen--" 

Lex looked at him then, as he raised the fork to his lips and took a bite. He chewed and swallowed slowly, without breaking eye contact. "Perfect," he said, and smiled. 

Clark's embarrassment lifted, and he had to laugh, because Lex Luthor with chocolate stuck in his teeth was a pretty funny sight. 

"I think this is the first time I've seen you willingly give up food," Lex continued between bites. 

Clark grinned. "Well, I had already had three pieces. And some ice cream. And a couple handfuls of chips. And a few hot dogs...." 

"I get the picture," Lex interrupted. He set the empty plate beside him, and Clark watched as he pulled off his shoes, tossed them across the floor and climbed onto the couch. He sat cross-legged against the opposite arm, facing Clark. "So. How does it feel to be seventeen?" 

Clark had to pause before he answered; that was something worth thinking over. "I don't know," he said, after a moment. "Not very different from sixteen, so far. Only, you know. More presents and cake." 

"Ah," said Lex, and Clark almost felt bad for thinking it, but that was definitely a smirk. "But you're forgetting one important difference between sixteen and seventeen." 

If he stretched his leg out just a little more, his foot would be touching Lex's knee. "What's that?" 

"You can see R rated movies now. Dirty words and sex." Lex raised an eyebrow. "NC-17, too. Even more sex." 

Clark laughed. "You know, Lex, I have seen grown-up movies before." 

"Oh?" 

"Half the time they don't even check your age. And if they do, you just buy a ticket to the little kid movie, and then you sneak into the other one. Pete and Chloe and I do it all the time." 

"I never imagined you for a delinquent, Clark," Lex said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. 

Sometimes Clark thought that maybe this was another one of his powers, because no one else seemed to blush nearly as much as he did. Super-strength, super-speed, super-vision -- sure, just your normal everyday freakishness. But super-blush? That was something special. "Well, you know," he said, trying to ignore the flush. Maybe cover it up with a grin and a tease. "It's just another one of my hidden depths." 

He regretted it as soon as he said it -- it was too close to, well, everything -- but Lex just smiled back and said "So I see," and let it slide. Clark had to frown and look away because ... Lex wasn't going to let it slide forever. Clark didn't like thinking about the things he kept from Lex. 

Lex gave him things he didn't give to other people. Not the expensive things, the truck and concert tickets and that stuff. He gave Clark all these little pieces, jokes and smiles and stories, like they weren't anything at all, except Clark was pretty sure that he didn't give them out that easily. It was like there was this whole other person that only Clark got to see. 

Only what did Clark give him in return? Nothing, really. Lex -- Lex deserved better than that. 

A loud beeping from Lex's direction, and Clark was glad to be distracted from his train of thought. 

Lex was looking at him. "Your birthday's over," he said quietly. "Even in  
Alaska." 

Summer now, so even though it was the middle of the night, Clark was sure it was still warm. "Yeah," said Clark, and he shivered a little. 

"Now you just have the rest of the year to get through," said Lex. He was using one of his distant voices, one of those ones that Clark didn't quite understand. One of the many things about Lex he didn't really get, even after nine months. 

Almost nine and a half, said some part of his mind, and he closed his eyes and hoped it would shut up before it counted the days. 

Clark felt a hand upon his leg. "Clark? You all right?" 

Closing his eyes just made the rest of his senses that much more vivid. The scent of hay and chocolate cake and wood chips, the sound of the bugs chirping outside with their inescapable rhythm, and the softness of the worn cotton beneath his head. Mostly, though, it was Lex. Lex's scent, clean and rich and assured -- Lex's voice, one of _those_ voices, but different, not so distant -- Lex's hand through his jeans, just light pressure but warm, almost hot. If Clark focused, he could see right through him. 

_Everything but taste_ , thought that same stupid part of him, and he opened his eyes hurriedly. "What? Oh -- sorry, Lex. It's just late. Long day." 

Lex pulled his hand away from Clark's leg, climbed off the couch and stood up, and that was all wrong. "You're right. I should probably go." And that was worse. 

"No. Stay." Clark grabbed the box from his belly and swung himself up to sitting position. "You can't leave," he said, and he rattled the box gently. "I haven't opened your present yet." 

Lex was giving him that look. The appraising one, like Lex was the one with x-ray vision. 

"Besides, you know, I'm seventeen now. It's new. You could give me some pointers." 

And that was the right thing to say, because Lex sat down next to him again. Clark felt something like a little spark of triumph. 

"I don't know that I'd make such a good role model," Lex said. "But go ahead. Open your present." 

But as Clark began, Lex leaned over and grabbed his wrist. "Clark," he said, low and almost angry, and Clark barely restrained himself from recoiling in surprise and knocking him away. 

"Clark." Again. "I just want you to know, if you tell me you can't accept this present, I swear, I'll hit you as hard as I can." 

Clark paused before he answered. Lex stared at him. 

"Yeah, okay," he said. "That's fair." 

Lex relaxed and sat back on the couch next to him again. 

A necklace. "You got me a necklace?" Huh. Lex had given him ... jewelry. Odd, girly, really old looking jewelry. 

"A pendant, actually. It was my mother's favorite. St John the Baptist, patron saint of bird dealers, epilepsy, lambs, tailors, Quebec. Your guess is as good as mine." 

"Wow. So. Why are you giving it to me?" 

"I got it on my seventeenth birthday. It seemed appropriate, somehow." 

"It was a present?" Clark held the pendant in his hand and rubbed it gently with his thumb. The surface looked like it had once been textured and complex, but it was almost smooth now. 

"I suppose, in a manner of speaking," Lex said. "You want to hear a story?" 

He nodded. Lex slumped a little and leaned his head against Clark's shoulder. "Seventeen.... I went to boarding school, you know, and I'd just graduated a few months before, so it was my first birthday at home in eight years. I'd been out late the night before, and by the time I got up, Dad had already left for Switzerland." 

"Switzerland?" 

He half-smiled. "Business is business." 

"But on your birthday?" 

"My father doesn't believe in wasteful sentiment, Clark. He doesn't cultivate weakness." 

"Oh," said Clark. He frowned. 

"He'd left instructions for me to breakfast in the formal dining room, so I ate alone with a few dozen empty chairs. There was a birthday card set at my place. God, Clark, you should have seen it. It was the most generic thing you could imagine. Very tasteful. Restrained. And the message -- 'Happy birthday, Father' -- he had his secretary type it up." Lex snickered. "He _initialed_ it!" 

Clark wasn't really finding this as funny as Lex seemed to be. 

Lex glanced at him. "You don't get it, do you?" 

"Your dad's an asshole." 

"Yep. King of the assholes. My father's always an asshole, Clark. That's not the point." 

"What's the point, then?" said Clark. His hands were in his lap, absently playing with the necklace. 

"The point is the way he did it. It was so _obvious_. He didn't even bother with subtlety. It was like he didn't trust me to get it without him spelling it out for me. It was his way of telling me exactly what he thought of me. Do you see?" 

"I guess." He did. Kind of. It didn't make a lot of sense, but Lex's relationship with his father was ... weird. 

"I don't like being underestimated." 

"I know." Pause. "So, um. What happened next?" 

"What happened next was I took my birthday present -- I don't remember the model, but it was black and shiny and sleek; I'm sure you would have loved it, Clark -- and I went out, found some acquaintances, went to some clubs, and generally got totally wasted. Then I came home and crashed the car into the gates of Luthor Manor." 

"Jeez, Lex." 

Lex continued. "After that, I broke into my father's chambers and stole my mother's necklace. I thought I deserved a new present, you see, since the other one had broken." 

"Didn't your father notice?" 

"Of course. He knew I took it, and I was punished, but he let me keep it. I'd earned it. It wasn't easy, you know. It required a lot of cunning and initiative on my part." 

"Oh," said Clark, and he couldn't think of anything else to say. He stared at the pendant for a second, and then put it back into its box and set it on the floor. 

"You disappointed in me, Clark?" Lex asked. He wasn't looking at Clark, and his voice sounded almost casual. Casual for Lex, at least. 

"No, of course not. I just didn't know." 

Lex smiled lightly. "Seventeen wasn't a very good year for me, I'm afraid. I can give you tips on what to avoid, if you want." 

Not easy, but if Lex was going to try and lighten the mood, Clark would go along with it. "I don't think there's all that much to avoid in Smallville." Outside of the meteor rocks, at least. And all the psychos. 

"I don't know about that," said Lex. "You never know when you might run into a nest of sin and decadence." 

Clark laughed. "Doubtful." 

"Well, if it comes down to it, I advise you to avoid the debauchery. Drugs, alcohol, clubs, pretty girls and boys -- they're all lots of fun in their own way, but the consequences can be less so." 

Clark's mouth felt dry, and he cleared his throat. "Like what?" 

Lex shrugged. "In my case? A lot of things I'd rather not get into. Just trust me. You're better off avoiding my path." 

Clark looked back towards the window. Only a few hours till sunrise. His father would wake up and start the chores; Clark would probably be sleeping still, another one of his birthday privileges (though, really, it just meant he'd have to do his work in the heat later, under the sun). Lex would have gone home to be alone in his castle. 

"Clark?" Lex's voice was almost soft again. 

He turned his head and found Lex looking up at him, face only a few inches away from Clark's own. Clark could feel his breath. 

"I don't know," he said softly. "I think a little debauchery is okay...." He leaned over and kissed Lex. 

Maybe he'd finally done what his annoying brain wanted, because for once it just shut up. No stupid tangents running through his mind, no having to make himself actively _not_ think about things. Just this. Kissing Lex. His thoughts were coming in single syllables, and he thought, _Oh. This is ... nice._

That didn't describe it at all, couldn't begin to. Maybe, he thought vaguely, there weren't any more words. Maybe they just weren't necessary, because this was Lex and Lex's mouth and Lex's tongue and Lex's hand on his shoulder and he could still taste the chocolate cake. 

When they broke apart, Clark buried his face in Lex's shoulder and tried to catch his breath. 

"Shit, Clark." Lex sounded breathless, too, and that made Clark grin and raise his head. 

"Does that mean we can do that again?" he asked, and he was already moving forward when Lex pushed him away. 

"God, Clark, no -- fuck. Have you been drinking?" 

Well, that seemed to come out to nowhere, till Clark remembered that Lex had just tasted his mouth pretty thoroughly. "What? I mean. No. Kind of. My dad gave me a beer after the party earlier, but that was hours ago. I'm not drunk, Lex, if that's what you're thinking. I only drank half of it, anyway." 

Lex flinched when Clark reached out to touch his shoulder. "Lex...." 

Lex wouldn't even turn and look at him. He was shaking his head now. "You should be in bed. You're tipsy, you're exhausted. Over-stimulated." Lex laughed oddly. "You're straight. You don't know what you're doing. I need to leave, Clark. This ... this is a very bad idea. I'll just go, and this won't have happened." 

"No." 

Finally, Lex looked at him. "No, what?" 

"No to all of it." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

Clark sighed sharply. "I'm -- you know I'm not a little kid." 

"That's really a matter of opinion, isn't it?" 

In Clark's imagination, it had never been this frustrating, and he shifted uncomfortably. " _You_ don't think of me as a kid. You don't talk to me like I'm a kid. You don't look at me like I'm a kid." 

Lex was silent. He looked, Clark thought, pensive. Almost grim. 

Clark edged closer again. "You're my best friend, Lex. I trust you." 

Lex raised his eyes to the ceiling and slowly muttered, "Fuck." 

"Lex," and his voice sounded different to his own ears, almost pleading. 

Lex stood up, and knelt back on the couch, facing him. He raised one hand to Clark's head, tangling it in his hair, and placed the other on his hip. "You don't know what you're doing," he said quietly. He lightly kissed Clark's forehead, his cheeks, his nose. "You have no idea." 

Clark could barely breathe. "I--" he started, and Lex took his mouth. 

Gentle, so gentle, and not nearly enough. He trembled. His hands, for no reason he could imagine, were still at his sides, and he had to fix that now, before he did anything else. Had to hold and stroke Lex's smooth skull, try to learn all its features through touch alone. More, though, there was more of Lex to learn, and he trailed a hand down to the small of Lex's back. 

Lex made a noise, and that was good, but the kiss was still so soft, and Clark needed _more_. He pulled Lex down with him onto the couch. It was an awkward angle, but Lex moved them easily, and it was better. 

This was definitely not what his parents had in mind when they gave him the couch, and Clark would have laughed, except he couldn't, because Lex was pressed against him, full length, touching _everywhere_ , and he was hard against Clark's leg. 

The kiss was deeper now, hotter. Tongue in his mouth, leg between his, hand under his shirt, and Clark rocked up helplessly. 

Lex moved back slightly to start on his face again, small not-quite-tender kisses covering the expanse of his skin. 

Clark's eyes were shut tight. He mumbled faintly, half to himself. "Wow. Lex -- I've wanted -- you're so -- God. I just --" 

"What is it, Clark?" He'd never heard Lex sound like that, so low and rough. Clark had done that to him. 

"This -- I've thought about this, Lex. You..." 

And suddenly all of it was gone, and Clark's eyes flew open. 

Lex was standing beside the couch, facing away. 

"What is it?" said Clark. He sat up and licked his lips reflexively. "Lex -- what's the matter?" 

"Where do you think this is going, Clark?" 

He recognized the coldness in Lex's voice; he'd heard it plenty of times, as Lex talked to him about Lionel or Smallville or whatever was pissing him off at the moment. It was bad enough to hear it then. It was worse to hear it directed at him. 

Clark looked at the floor. Super-blush was definitely the most annoying of his powers. Even worse than the whole floating above the bed thing. Stupid enhanced capillaries. He wouldn't have thought he had any blood left for his cheeks. "Well," he said slowly, "I sort of thought that -- that we were going to -- have sex?" It came out more like a question than he meant it to. 

"That's not what I meant." Lex stalked over to the window and stood next to the telescope. Clark followed him. "Do you think we're going to be boyfriends? Hold hands walking down the street and cuddle in the Beanery? Because I'll be honest with you, Clark. I really don't see that happening." 

Lex was almost out of the light again over here, but the moonlight made up for it. His skin was even paler than usual, seemed to practically glow as he drawled, voice almost indifferent. "Or is this a one time thing? An experiment? Testing to see if you like dick after all? Or maybe --" 

"No!" said Clark, and his voice was too loud. He reached out and stopped, his hand a few inches from Lex's arm. "No," he said again, more calmly. "I just -- I'm not scared, Lex. I want you. This. You do, too...." 

Lex turned, and Clark was pretty sure he was looking for something in his face to flicker, for some kind of doubt to show itself. After a moment, Lex nodded slowly. "All right, then." And it was Lex there in front of him and Clark had to grin as Lex took his face in his hands and kissed him hard. 

He whimpered slightly when Lex moved away again. 

"It's okay," Lex said, almost soothingly. He helped Clark pull his t-shirt up over his head and toss it away, and then stripped off his own sweater. "There. Better." 

Smooth flesh beneath Clark's hands, and they were close again, skin to skin, so good. Lex was rubbing and touching and tasting, and Clark could only moan and arch towards him, and the words came out almost without him noticing. "God, Lex, I'm so sorry..." 

Lex started, but didn't stop what he was doing. "What?" 

He was babbling, but that part of his brain was finally in control, and it wasn't about to give it up: Clark couldn't stop now if he wanted to. "So sorry, God, please, Lex. It was all true, all of it, and I lied to you, and I'm so sorry and you were right. Always right and I'm sorry I'm sorry sorry -- oh --" 

Twelve years, and all it had taken was this, Lex's trust and Lex's desire like yet another gift, and Clark's defenses were all gone in an instant. 

"Clark?" 

"Mmm?" 

"You really trust me?" 

There was only one response to that. "Yeah," Clark breathed, low and almost dizzy. 

"Why?" Lex wasn't moving at all. Clark got the feeling that this was some kind of last test for him, because Lex was just right there, waiting, all but begging him to answer correctly. Only Clark didn't know what the right answer was, and this was important and he had to _concentrate_ , but it was really difficult to think clearly when he was this damn hard. 

Except he did know the answer, because he was talking again. "Because you want me to." 

And that brought Lex back, close to him, and he laughed against Clark's neck. "Fuck, Clark. That's not it at all." Clark's eyes closed, because the sight of Lex was just too much, and he felt Lex kiss him softly, a warm wet press against his collarbone. "I don't want your trust. I _need_ it." 

Lex stopped talking then, his mouth busy against Clark's throat. Clark shivered; he had the vague impression that he was babbling again, but all he could think was that it was a good thing his skin was impenetrable, because there was no way he'd be able to explain a hickey to his parents. Though if his skin could bruise -- and that Rickman business all those months ago seemed to prove that -- then maybe hickeys would work, too. You'd just need a good vacuum, right? More suction. Suction. Lex on his throat. Suck, repeated in his head, suck, and Clark couldn't help but thrust against him. 

Lex made an odd noise, vibrations against his skin, and he brought his hand down between them to stroke Clark's erection. Clark gasped, and Lex was unbuttoning and unzipping and his hand was around Clark's cock, and Lex had _good_ hands. A good mouth, too, because he was still sucking and licking and nibbling, and god, Lex had good _everything_ , and that was as far as Clark got before he came. 

When he'd stopped shaking and opened his eyes again, Lex was absolutely still, framed by the window, by the night and stars behind him and the endless sky. 

He was staring at Clark like he was studying him, examining his face, or memorizing it. His mouth was parted slightly and his eyes looked different than Clark could ever remember seeing them. Younger, somehow. Open. Naked. 

Clark kissed Lex again and pushed him gently back against the barn wall before turning his attention to his crotch. Fumbling, but Lex was helping him, slightly desperate now, and Clark got his belt off, his pants open and down. 

He swallowed hard at the sight of Lex's cock (hard, waiting), but, well, he had plenty of experience in jerking off, right? And this was the same thing, just with a few adjustments for two people instead of one. 

So. Here went nothing. His right hand around Lex, slow and steady strokes. Lex shuddered, his eyes twitching. Clark brought his other hand to Lex's and laced their fingers together. 

"Lex," said Clark, and he should have been embarrassed to hear his voice sound that blatant, but there wasn't time for that. Eyes locked together, like neither of them could turn away, and Lex was making all these sounds, so soft Clark could barely make them out, even this close. Mostly they were just meaningless noises, but there were some words there, too, and Clark had never thought the word fuck could sound that _holy_. 

"Clark, more," Lex murmured, and Clark moved his hand faster, harder. "Good boy -- fuck!" and he gasped and jerked hard. Louder now, almost moaning. "God, _Clark_...." 

"Yes," Clark said softly, and he dipped his head so they could kiss as Lex came between them. 

After a minute, Clark murmured against Lex's scalp, "This is officially the best birthday ever." 

"It's not your birthday anymore, remember?" 

"Hawaii." 

"Ah," said Lex. He kissed Clark lightly again before moving away from the embrace. "We should clean up." 

"Oh. Yeah." 

They didn't speak as they cleaned and dressed, and the sight of the loft made Clark frown a little. It looked the same as it had earlier, like nothing had happened at all. Like everything was just the same as it had been before. 

Clark sat on the couch and looked at nothing in particular. 

"Clark?" Lex's voice was concerned. Friendly. Brotherly. 

"I -- it's nothing." 

Lex moved to stand before him. "I need to leave now. Your parents..." He trailed off. 

"Yeah. Of course." He was a stupid boy. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Lex tipped his head up and kissed him. "Come over later. We'll talk," he said, straightening up. 

Clark grinned. "Oh. Yeah, okay." 

"Good. I'll see you then." 

The dorky grin stayed with him as he watched Lex leave, and afterwards, as he lay down and sprawled over the couch again. Still just as uncomfortable as before, but with good memories now, too, and that made up for it. 

He reached down, feeling around blindly till he found the box again, and picked it up. Lex's pendant was still there, and he wrapped it around his wrist, twisting and doubling the chain so it would stay. 

* * *

Clark woke, drifting into consciousness slowly, until he had to admit to himself that yes, he was awake, and yes, he had to get up now. 

He blinked in surprise for a moment as he realized he was in the loft and not his room. He kicked off the blanket pooled around his legs and sat up, yawning and looking around. 

Last night. And the party, and then -- Lex. Lex had come over, and he'd kissed him, and then -- oh. Wow. 

Clark's grin froze suddenly as he replayed the events in his mind, and he stood up and headed for the house. At the door, he noticed the chain around his wrist, and he slipped it into his pocket as he entered. 

No parents there, and a note on the fridge from his mom, saying they'd gone out to shop for supplies and wouldn't be back until the evening; there were leftovers in the fridge for dinner. 

As he walked up the stairs, Clark said a silent thank you to whoever arranged these sort of things. Facing his mother now... God. She'd probably be able to see it on him, or smell them, or something. And even if she didn't, Clark didn't think he could quite handle acting normal right now. Well. Relatively normal. 

He walked up to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Water steaming hot to the point where it would probably scald someone else, and as he washed, he could almost feel Lex touching him like last night. 

He tried to think, to concentrate. He'd had sex with Lex, and that was amazing and stupefying and just _big_ , and it should be all he could think about, at least for a long time, except -- the other was even bigger. The biggest. 

And he did trust Lex, he did, with his life, even -- but he'd told him about his secrets, and Clark couldn't tell anybody, couldn't tell anybody not ever, and he'd told Lex. Lex knew. Or if he didn't know, quite, he knew that there was stuff to know, and that was almost the same thing. He knew Clark had been lying. 

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall as hot water poured down all around him. 

* * *

Clark hadn't planned on going to the castle. He hadn't planned on anything, really; he'd hadn't thought, just gotten dressed and gone off running, because he'd needed to do something, had needed solitude, and he didn't think the loft was the wisest place to go at this point. 

But when he'd passed the mansion, he'd stopped. Part of him wanted to avoid Lex, just _hide_ somehow until he figured out what the hell he was thinking, what the hell he was going to do. Got his head on straight. But that would be a really crummy thing to do, just avoiding him, and he _had_ promised Lex he'd come over today. 

Besides, the other part of him _wanted_ to see Lex. Needed to, somehow. 

His x-ray vision showed the house was empty, and he found Lex in one of the gardens on the grounds, reclining -- almost lying down -- in some fancy lawn chair. 

He stood off to the side, hands in his pockets. "Hey." 

Lex turned his head. "Clark. Have a seat." 

Silently, Clark sat cross-legged in the large chair next to Lex's. After a moment, Lex looked back over at him. 

"You okay?" 

He felt himself smile crookedly. "I -- I don't know. Kind of." 

Lex nodded slowly, as if he was mulling over Clark's words especially carefully. "Which is it that's freaking you out, Clark? Is it the sex, or the confession?" 

"Um. Both. I guess." 

"Ah," said Lex, and he leaned his head back against the chair. Clark didn't think he liked the expression he wore. "Fair enough." 

Clark felt like he should say something, but he couldn't think of a word. He stared at his thighs. 

Lex sighed, and when he spoke again, his voice sounded almost resigned. "What's done is done, Clark; now you just have to live with the consequences." 

And that made Clark remember again, remember Lex talking last night on the couch, and he looked up quickly. Lex's face wasn't pleased, wasn't expectant or disappointed, wasn't anything; Clark couldn't read it at all, and he suddenly thought that maybe he got it. That maybe Lex was just letting -- making -- Clark go first, making him decide what happened next. 

Clark breathed deeply, and tried to fix his thoughts. "Lex...." 

"Hmm?" 

He felt so _awkward_. "I -- I meant all the stuff I said last night." 

Lex opened his mouth but didn't say anything. 

"And I don't regret any of it, either, it's just... that was the first time. At any of it. And it's all a really big deal, and I don't really know what to do here." 

"Well," said Lex, and his mouth was twisted into a half-smile, "the way I see it, you have two options." 

"Yeah?" He could barely hear his own voice. 

"You could stand up, brush yourself off, and walk away right now. Your parents and your friends will all be relieved and happy, and you won't have to feel their constant disapproval. You'll blush and turn away when you see me in town, and it'll be awkward for the first few months, but you'll get over it. You can tuck this all away somewhere, and you won't have to worry about any of it anymore." 

He met Lex's gaze as seriously as he could. "What's the other choice?" 

"The other choice is you come here, and you kiss me, and you tell me everything." Lex's eyes were fixed on him, unblinking, unknowable. 

Clark swallowed hard. "I --" he started, and stopped again, looking for some clue, some response. "I think..." 

He slipped out of the chair and crawled the remaining feet and knelt beside Lex. He rested his head on his thigh, and he could feel Lex's hand move to his hair and begin to stroke gently. He kissed Lex's leg and turned his head up to his face again. Lex was smiling at him, and laughed a little as Clark watched. 

"I have to say, Clark, I was hoping that'd be the one you'd choose." 

"The other one wasn't much of a choice," he said, and he was immediately embarrassed. 

But Lex grinned wider, and said, "Yeah. I didn't care for it much, either." He moved his hand down to stroke Clark's face. 

Clark shivered, closed his eyes and tried to figure out where to start. Lex's fingers swiped over his lips. "Lex." 

He felt Lex shift beneath him, and he opened his eyes and knelt up. 

Lex was sliding over to the other end of the lawn chair. "Here. Sit with me." 

"There's not enough room --" 

"We'll fit," said Lex, and pulled Clark towards him. 

There really wasn't enough room, and they were pressed closely, face to face, Lex almost on top of him, and his leg swung over Clark's own. Lex's hand rested on his waist. 

"Is that better?" 

Clark nodded. 

"Okay." Lex kissed him solemnly. "Go ahead." 

And it was better, easier with Lex there so tight against him, where he could smell him, feel him, and it felt like maybe he'd just had to wait for the right person and moment to tell, and he smiled when he opened his mouth to tell his secrets. 


End file.
